Black Hearts
by Kshetra
Summary: A not so reformed Draco Malfoy, a most unwilling Hermione Granger form the perfect candidates for the death eater's publicity stunt.
1. A Cliched Starting To An Unexpected

A big thanks to Oldoverholt, my beta reader.

BLACK HEARTS

Chapter one

A Clichéd Start Towards An Unexpected…

"O-o-o-o-oh Hermio-o-o-o-o-one-e-e-e-e-e-e-e," Ron's loud voice was carried by the wind and was almost, at once, lost in the roar of thunder that rumbled in the murky sky.

"Would you quit it, Ron? We are supposed to be patrolling the grounds to find death eaters, not scare them away with your rendition of a werewolf," said Hermione, trying hard not to smile as Ron let out an awful howl to exaggerate her comment, which would have put any rock musician to shame.

There was laughter from behind as her comment, accompanied by Ron's howl, was heard by Seamus, Dean, and Ginny, who were trudging along behind them, their boots noisily splashing through the puddles of rainwater that were beginning to form.

"Dea-a-a-a-a-r, pre-e-e-e-e-e-e-ty Hermio-o-o-o-o-one-e-e-e-e-e-e-e, the-e-e angr-r-r-r-y hero-o-o-ine," Ron's voice rose up again, and in the wand light, Hermione saw how he put on an effected look and was staring up at the heavens trying to imitate an opera singer, all the while, blinking as the light drizzle fell on his face.

Hermione burst out laughing; she couldn't help it. If the Daily Prophet could see them now, the wizard community would have a heart attack next morning. Thousands of galleons had been spent in training them, the next generation of Aurors and here they were, on patrol duty around Hogwarts' grounds (on the list of most likely places to be attacked), listening to the artless crooning of an obnoxious redhead.

Not that it really mattered, just then. The dark side had suffered too many casualties in the last battle to make an attack, at once.

Hermione's heart sank, just a little, at the thought, even though she tried to reason that they were in the right.

The last battle had been a decisive one, in which the light had been almost as ruthless as the dark. 'Take no prisoners' seemed to have become the slogan of the Aurors, the memory of the Azkaban break out too fresh in their minds.

Hermione had been secretly thankful that she had not had to fight in last battle, because they had still been in the Auror training camps. Even though her Auror training decreed that the means applied need not be bothered about, as long as the end results were right, Hermione Granger could not, had not developed the mindset, yet, to curse a person, except in defense.

"Hermione?" the pleading voice of Ron brought her out of her reverie. Lost in her thoughts, she had walked on and she could dimly make out the other three who seemed to have stopped far away, from what she could see by the light of her and Ron's wands combined.

"Hermione, it's pouring," continued Ron, in a whining tone. "Not even the death eaters are nuts enough to risk an attack in this weather. Call off the patrol duty, Hermione, so we can go inside and kick start the surprise p… pancakes that Harry is getting the house elves to make." Wretchedness was etched on Ron's face, as he realized that he had not only made a slip but also had tried to cover up with the lamest comment he possibly could have made.

"Really, Ron, you thought that I didn't know. Honestly, all those hushed whispers, all those sudden silences the moment I walked into the room, and to top it all, Dobby coming to me, asking me what cake I would prefer on Christmas morning, which is three months away. I know there is a surprise birthday party for me today," Hermione said in amusement, and the scowl deepened on Ron's face as he thought of how the others were going to kill him for giving away the surprise.

"But your birthday was last week," wailed Ron.

"All the more reason why you would surprise me a week later," Hermione replied, sagely.

"Party pooper," sulked Ron, appearing half of his eighteen years.

"Blabber mouth"

"Miss know-it-all"

"Mister say-it-all!" ended Hermione, knowing she had won this round.

"Very funny," said Ron in huffed up pride and stalked off before her, looking every bit a disgruntled hero.

"Ron," she called after him, rolling her eyes at his childishness.

She sent out the three blue sparks, which signaled to the others that the patrol was over, as she had to admit that there was no way there would be an attack in the approaching storm.

She then walked slowly after Ron, who had disappeared around the bend of the forest. She shivered slightly by the combined effect of the rain and the memory of their experiences in the forest. She thought for the hundredth time why Ron had to be such an arse and why Christopher Rankin, the inventor of the rain repellent spell, could not have corrected the problem of poor vision that came as a side effect of casting the spell.

_Not that it really mattered_, She thought, as the rain now came down in buckets. _Death eaters could tap-dance before me right now, and I would still not be able to spot them._

The problem of Ron being an arse was an old one. He had been born one and she knew that he would most likely remain one. Yet, it was something that made up Ronald Weasley and she would not have it any other way.

Her cheeks, which had been pale from the rain, flushed as she remembered the graduation party of their Auror camp, Ron had got drunk and had declared to her that he liked her, before he promptly passed out. That had been two weeks ago, and though Ron had dutifully avoided her for over a week, he was now being himself again. With the exception that she, now and then, caught him looking at her with a wistful look in his eyes, which she had admitted to herself the previous night, that she quite liked.

She finally saw Ron, who was trying to take shelter underneath one of the large trees that stood at the edge of the forest.

"Where the others?" asked Ron, trying hard not to notice her pink hued cheeks and her utterly wet state, which only added to her appeal.

"I called the patrol off," Hermione replied.

"Is this the part where I tell you _I told you so_?"

"Oh shut up Ron, we had to make sure."

"I can't believe you. You knew there would be a party and you still want to be late."

"Isn't that the idea? That I should go in last so that it's a real surprise."

"I still wish you hadn't known," he said sullenly

"Ron, stop being such a prat. Let's go in, I am freezing."

Ron rolled his eyes at her and muttered, '_Incito.'_ Almost instantly, Hermione felt the warmth of the heating spell taking effect.

Ron looked pleased with himself and then he softly said something of very long ago,

"Have you gone mad? Are you a witch or not?"

She smiled, looked up at him, and, for the first time, realized how alone they were, and it was raining, and this was the perfect time for snogging according to muggle and wizard romantics, alike.

He seemed to have the same idea and as he moved closer towards her, her heart, beat itself into a violent fury in anticipation of her first real kiss.

Almost without warning there was a tremendous crack of lightning and the sound of thunder that followed, completely obliterated the sound of the pelting rain.

Unlike muggle romance novels where the heroine would have jumped right into the outstretched arms of the hero, Hermione, startled, moved away from him.

The mood was broken and Ron cursed Zeus for interrupting. Still, it made one thing clear, she liked him.

"O-o-oh, Hermione is scared. Hermione is scared," teased Ron in a singsong voice.

"Am not"

"Are too"

"Oh…" started Hermione, getting angry…

"Shut up, Ron," finished Ron, imitating Hermione.

They had but taken a few steps towards the direction of the castle, when Ron said this and Hermione, rolling her eyes good-naturedly, gave him a small push. Normally, her little shove would not have done much damage to Ron, but today, owing to the slippery ground, Ron found himself flat on his butt, in the squelching mud.

It was human nature that made Hermione laugh at Ron's less than graceful fall, and it was human nature, again, that Ron wanted to get even with her.

The rain and the light-headedness of almost being kissed combined to make Hermione lose her usual demeanour, and with a squeal of fake fright she took off in the direction they had come from, away from Ron. Ron, covered in mud, ran after her in mock outrage, then stopped in his tracks and started laughing as the object of his fantasy slipped, and with an undignified yelp of surprise, fell face forward on to the trunk of a tree.

Except that it wasn't on a tree trunk, that Hermione had fallen on to. It was a wet, warm body, slouched up against the tree, whose callused hands involuntarily caught her.

For a second, Hermione just lay there, panting for breath, not fully realizing that the pounding below her hands was that of a heart of another human being. But, soon, her Auror instinct kick started, and she began assessing her situation.

Unless someone from the castle had a weird fetish of sitting against trees, in the middle of the night, under pouring rain, this was she judged, an enemy.

Her wand had fallen on the ground, near them, and was rolling back and forth. The Lumous spell was still working and light and shadow were alternately flickering on them. In this eerie light, she looked up from his chest, where she had landed, to the stranger's face, and then into his stormy grey eyes.

The trademark smirk was missing, yet, she knew him instantly. He was, after all, the poster boy of the _most wanted _list, and here he was, just under her.

"Nice of you to drop in, Granger," Draco Malfoy said lightly.


	2. End

Thanks to Oldoverholt, my beta reader.

CHAPTER TWO

…END

"Nice of you to drop in, Granger," Draco Malfoy said lightly.

The comment jolted Hermione out of her transfixed state; she quickly scrambled off of him and grabbed her wand. She had not done this in one fluid movement or in a manner similar to cat woman, but Draco Malfoy had not made the slightest attempt to escape or even fight.

He continued to stare at her almost blankly, and then turned to look in the direction from which Ron, oblivious to the whole scenario, was approaching.

Ron Weasley had not seen Draco Malfoy. He had instead become impatient, waiting for Hermione to come back. Cold and hungry, he trudged towards where Hermione was standing; she was facing away from him.

"If it's another 'extraordinary' algae she has found, I swear I am going to kill her," he muttered under his breath.

"Hermione, are you…" the words died on his lips as Hermione moved from his path of vision and he could discern the pale faced boy in the wand light.

It took him a minute or so to process what he was seeing, and then he too could only make the obvious observation, "You!"

Draco Malfoy rolled his eyes in response and then spoke, looking at Hermione, his sardonic voice carrying his disdain.

"Hello Mudblood." "And Mud," he added, acknowledging Ron, who still couldn't mask his surprise and looked as if he had swallowed a Hippogriff.

He continued in a light cheerful tone, "I was wondering, whether one of you would be enlightened enough to cast a rain repellent spell, or is freezing your ass out here part of Auror duty?" He got up with ease, putting his hands out slightly to show he didn't have his wand out, even as Hermione raised her wand threateningly. Though drenched to his skin, unlike them, he seemed to have somehow escaped from 'The Drowned Rat Effect' and if it wasn't for his surroundings, Hermione felt that he could easily have passed off as someone holding a glass of Cognac and heading a dinner conversation.

"Why can't you do it yourself?" asked Ron, suspiciously. He had taken a step forward and seemed intent to spring at Malfoy at the slightest provocation.

_Really Ron, here we've got him trapped, and you really want him to take out his wand?_

Hermione couldn't help feeling frustrated at how idiotically Ron was dealing with the situation. This was, however, neither the time nor the place to lecture Ron (for once) and Hermione instead quietly cast the spell. A semicircular, shimmering bubble sprang up, enclosing the area where they stood, effectively deflecting the rain to the sides. Poor vision was not an issue here, as at this close a range she could easily curse Malfoy if he chose to run. Also, the bubble could be seen from a distance, which would hopefully bring the others to their aid.

The smirk on Draco's face grew more pronounced as he watched her follow his suggestion and then turning to Ron, he spoke, "Really Weasel, I thought that Auror school would have had an effect on you but I guess not, eh? You are still the same old, poor, retarded, tomato head."

"Why you…" started Ron, moving even closer to Malfoy, his wand held high. His face had turned a shade lighter than his hair and his eyes flashed wildly with age-old rage.

It was Hermione who cut in, "How's death eater camp, Malfoy? Your father a good teacher?" She knew Malfoy was trying to bait Ron, trying to make him do something irrational, and she knew she had to put a stop to it.

"Oh, its wonderful, mudblood. Good pay, wonderful muggle killings, excellent room service. You have to meet a few incompetent fools once in a while, but then that's just part of the job," he answered angelically, looking in their general direction.

"What's your motive here Malfoy? You going to attack Hogwarts?" Ron asked, his anger barely in control.

"Oh, yes Weasel, I am going to single-handedly take on Hogwarts and the hundreds of Aurors inside and win."

"Where are your other friends?" spat Ron.

"You can't see him? Why he is right here," said Malfoy, his tone suggesting he was talking to a three-year-old.

He pointed to the tree behind him and continued in the same tone, "Tree meet Weasel, Weasel meet Tree. The moment the dratted old Professor Dumbledore comes out, Tree will drop branch, branch will hit Professor, and Professor will die. Do you want me to make it any simpler, Weasel?" he sneered.

His sarcasm was not lost as Ron, now completely livid, advanced.

"Do you know something, Malfoy? The Aurors changed their rules a while back. We don't take prisoners anymore," he said, his voice barely a whisper as he uttered the threat.

"Really? How disappointing and here I was, looking forward to my stay in Azkaban," sneered Malfoy. He still had not made the slightest effort to draw his wand, a detail that worried Hermione to the utmost.

"Ron, stop it. He's just trying to get you angry. Don't…" but Hermione's entreaties were cut short by Malfoy, who seemed intent on getting himself killed.

"Yes, Ronniekins, listen to your mudblood girlfriend. Ickle Ronnie, wouldn't want to be forever haunted by his actions, now would he, the way Potty is?" he said, grinning almost madly.

"Shut up, Malfoy," shouted Hermione, finally losing her temper. She turned to Ron, who was standing perfectly still. Yet, she knew the slightest remark from Malfoy would make him fly out of control.

"Ron," she shouted, trying to make sure he would listen to her. "Listen to me. He's doing it on purpose. Lets just stun him and take him back to the castle. He wants you to fly at him because he's trapped and knows that it's his only way out. He'll have valuable information, Ron, information that we need." She was relieved when she saw her words made an impact as Ron relaxed considerably.

"Fine," he said. "Lets just take the git back. Not that I think, he'll know anything useful," he added with a wry smile.

She had hoped fear would at last show on Malfoy's features, but she faltered as she saw the malicious smile that now adorned his face.

"Oh, you are wrong there, Weasel. I do have information. Quite valuable actually. Would you like an example?" he asked, his voice deathly quiet.

"No Malfoy, we wouldn't. Now make it easy for yourself and sit down, unless you would prefer falling down under the influence of a full body bind curse," said Hermione. She knew letting him talk any longer would not be in their best interest.

"Shut up mudblood, I didn't ask you," spat Malfoy, a sudden ferocity in his voice.

"Don't you dare talk to Hermione like that, Malfoy, I don't want to hear anything you have to…"

"What's your elder brother's name, Weasel?" cut in Malfoy; his voice had again acquired that mocking quietness.

Whatever Ron had been about to say died on his lips, as he looked at Malfoy for the first time with dread. Bill Weasley had been involved in the last battle, and no word had come from him yet.

"What was his name?" continued Malfoy, looking thoughtful. "Riley? Will? Or was it Bill? Bill Weasley. That was his name, wasn't it?" he asked, looking at Ron, whose face had turned sallow.

"Yes of course. How could I forget? Bill Weasley, the source of amusement for countless death eaters." He smiled, as if from the memory.

"That's enough Malfoy. Petrificus To…" but Hermione was unable to finish, as Ron took hold of her wand hand, and stopped her from finishing with the body bind curse.

"What the hell do you know about my brother?" asked Ron, his voice shaking, in spite of his best efforts to keep it steady.

"Oh, nothing much. Just his last moments. How…"

"Ron, don't listen to him, he's lying," Hermione pleaded. She realized, however, almost at once that Ron wasn't paying the slightest attention. His whole being seemed glued to Malfoy's words.

"You're lying," said Ron quietly, more to himself than to Malfoy. "He is not dead."

"No? Well maybe I was mistaken. He sure seemed your sort, what with the hair and everything. Screamed a lot for his mommy. Kept mumbling how this was all just a nightmare that would fade away. Had this really weird amulet thing round his neck. Cheaply made and therefore useless. I say…Weasel, what's the matter? You suddenly look…" Malfoy's worry would have seemed genuine had not his expression, at having found his mark, shown otherwise.

Ron's face had become death like pale, and his hands clutched at the amulet round his neck. Molly Weasley had provided each member of her family, including Harry and Hermione, with those amulets, which had been received by them with much reluctance. They weren't exactly magical, (a rumour, had been spread by the twins that she had made them out of one of Lockhart's self help books), and like her jumpers they were not very pretty. Main reason why Ron always wore his inside his robes, hidden from sight, which could only mean Malfoy, had been telling…

"When he realized he was going to die," continued Malfoy.

"Don't. I don't want to hear it," screamed Ron, putting his hands to his ears.

"He fell to his knees and started…"

" Malfoy, stop it," cried Hermione, in despair. She couldn't bear to see Ron in this state.

"Begging for his life," continued Malfoy, his tone not in the least changing.

"I will kill you if you don't…" started Ron, biting out each word.

"And died a stinking, muggle loving, coward, right at my feet." Draco Malfoy finished, his face, a mask of smug conquest.

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Ron's face contorted horribly, and he advanced at Malfoy with an expression of such pure hatred that even Hermione, for a second, quailed from him.

Malfoy was sent flying, to the very edge of the bubble, as Ron's fist came in contact with his face. He didn't try to get up even as Ron made his way towards him, followed by Hermione who was desperately trying to pull him away.

Blood was trickling down from the corner of Malfoy's mouth, and yet, he didn't seem to notice it. He lay panting, his eyes glazed over slightly.

Once Ron had come to a stop a few feet away from him, Malfoy said softly, wincing, " You know what, Weasel? You make a great understudy. The whole 'avenging image', so very… Potty," he finished, triumphantly.

Ron seemed to have not even heard him as he lifted his wand and said in a flat voice, "Avada K…"

"Ron, no." It was instinct that drove Hermione to stand in his path. She couldn't bear to see Ron do something that he might later regret. Her hands sprang forward, to prevent Ron from completing the Unforgivable Curse, but it seemed she was too late. There was a flash of blinding, green light before her eyes, and she turned quickly towards Malfoy, even though she didn't really want to look at Malfoy's dead form.

His eyes held a fear that she had wished to see some time before. His face was chalky white, but blood was still oozing out from the side of his mouth. Hermione didn't notice any of this at the moment. What she did notice, to her complete surprise, was that he was alive.

_It didn't work. Thank God, it didn't… _but before the relief could wash over her, she heard a dull thud as something fell near her feet.

She turned around and saw that Ron had fallen to the ground. His eyes wide open; his mouth forming a word, he hadn't completed, his wand still in his hand. He was dead.

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A buzzing noise filled Hermione's ears, insistent like a swarm of bees that wouldn't go away. She felt, strangely enough, nothing; it was like this was happening to someone else.

She bent down, putting her head to his chest, hopping to hear his heart beat; her hands moved to his face, searching for his warm breath.

"Ron," she said quietly, sitting up and looking at his face. "Ron?" she called again, not quite sure what she was doing.

She didn't hear Draco approach, and was only aware of him when he stood close to her. She noted absentmindedly that the bubble had disappeared, and the rain was again falling upon them.

The sound of running feet soon became audible and Hermione could hear someone calling her and Ron.

Hermione didn't look up. She raised her wand higher to look at Ron's face more clearly, her hands touching his forehead tentatively.

The noise grew louder and at last Seamus appeared, panting hard, his face drawn in concern.

He stopped short as he saw them. His eyes widening in shock as he looked at Ron, Hermione, and then finally, at Draco Malfoy.

Behind him, came the sound of the other's and Hermione thought numbly that it must be Dean and Ginny, Ron's sister.

"You, you killed him," said Seamus, wheezing.

Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a fact had long ago registered. A fact that even in her state of turmoil she was sure of. She had seen it in his expression. Seen it in his surprise and terror at Ron's…

"No," she said dully, words somehow springing forth. "It wasn't Malfoy."

She looked up at Malfoy who was standing behind her. He was looking at Seamus with an expression of confounded surprise. She finally looked towards the others.

Dean was staring at her in shell-shocked amazement and Ginny was moving slowly towards them, her eyes wide, tears flowing without restraint as she gazed at her brother.

But Seamus, Seamus was looking at her with loathing written into his every feature.

As Ginny came closer, Seamus caught her wrist and pulled her back and then pointing at Hermione, he repeated his words in a whisper of disbelief ,"You killed him."

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Icy cold water would not have jolted her more than what Seamus had said. It shook her out of her shocked state and for the first time she tried to make sense of what Seamus had said.

"Seamus? What…" she started quietly, but he cut in. He seemed half crazed by the sight of Ron's death and he was screaming,

"No, I saw you. Ron…he was moving towards Malfoy and then…then you blocked him and then… then the flash. Oh my God ,Hermione."

Hermione's head was pounding fiercely and all she wanted was to be left in peace and quiet . But the look on Ginny's face was enough to make her reach for the younger girl, stuttering an explanation.

But Dean stepped in front, his wand held aloft.

"No, don't touch her. Maybe …he," Dean said looking at Malfoy, who was still standing there. "Maybe he's controlling you, Hermione. It's all right. We'll find a way out. Just lay your wand down and…"

"No," she screamed stumbling back from Dean as if she was burnt. She was at last able to comprehend what they were saying and she couldn't believe it.

"No, I didn't. How can you even think?… it was someone else …" For the first time she realized that a murderer was still out there.

"Dean's right, Hermione, lay down your wand and lets go back. Professor Dumbledore, will take off the curse," said Seamus, taking a step further towards her cautiously, as if he was afraid she would attack.

"I didn't do it. Why do you think that I would do something like this? Why are you scared of me?" She shouted out the last part. She had accidentally pointed her wand at them as she had spoken and all three of her friends had stepped back with fear in their eyes.

"Hermione… lay down your wand," said Dean, his eyes following her every motion.

She moved back even further away from them, colliding with Malfoy who'd been a silent spectator to the whole scenario being played out.

He was staring at the three of them, his eyes narrowed, face filled with contempt.

"You're…" he started, but Ginny interrupted. She looked furious, tears being replaced by hellish anger, just the kind her brother had been possessed with a moment ago.

"_Stupefy_," she shouted.

Hermione had lowered her wand but just as Ginny shouted the spell, Hermione felt her wand hand yanked up by Malfoy, and he shouted the deflecting spell, "_Protego._"

Taken by surprise, she didn't try to fight and her wand acted under his command, using her magic, throwing a weak, but effective haze of purple smoke before them.

As Hermione heard Dean's yelp of surprise, she felt herself dragged away by Malfoy who took off at once into the forest.

Half in a daze, she was forced to follow him, slipping and sliding on the wet ground. The darkness and the rain hardly helped her to stay on her feet. He hadn't let go of her arm and he pulled her along quickly in a zigzag path, to avoid the curses; they moved over the dense undergrowth, with the rain splattering down on them.

She could hear their shouts behind her and she wondered faintly why she was running away from her friends.

"No," she finally said, coming to a stop, fighting Malfoy's force. He pulled at her, cursing but she stood her ground. "I am not going to run away. It's a horrible mistake. I just need to explain and …"

"They won't listen to you. They've gone bloody mad. Do you understand me?" Draco said in an urgent tone. Seeing her shake her head _no_, he spat out in anger, "Fine. Stay here and die. I for one am leaving."

He turned and almost ran again but Hermione caught at his robe and pointing her wand to his chest she said, "No, you…death eaters did this. You are going to come and…"

But she never did finish. "Crucio," the spell was heard in the distance and the jet of light from Ginny's wand found its mark as Hermione crumpled to the ground in pain.

The searing pain wasn't Hermione's greatest affliction. She had felt it before, in Auror classes, but never, never had she imagined that it would be Ginny, her friend, who would be casting it on her.

"Petrificus Totalus," she heard a voice say, distantly, through the white-hot pain. Ginny screamed. Almost at once she felt the pain recede. She looked up and saw Malfoy standing over her, his wand finally out. He bent down and lifted her up to her feet and then without a word, pulled her along again.

She could hardly follow, her mind protesting against running away and the after effects of the Cruciates curse turning her legs into lead, but Malfoy hauled her along with his sheer force. Despite the dull throbbing in her head, she noted the curses falling near them thick and fast. But they managed to avoid them, the trees deflecting most of the curses.

"We need to get farther away," instructed Malfoy, panting. They kept on running and the shouting voices behind them began to grow faint. They came into a clearing and Malfoy stopped, scanning behind him for the others; he frantically started taking off his shoe.

_'Shoe' _her mind noted deliriously. "He's taking of his shoe," said Hermione, in a giggled whisper, laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Ron was dead, her friends were chasing her, she was with Malfoy, a Death eater, and he was taking of his shoes as if it was the most important thing at the moment.

He finally removed it and placing it on the ground he aimed his wand at it. "Portus," he muttered. The shoe glowed blue, trembled all over and then went still. Hermione had been sitting the whole interval with her head in her hands, on the verge of hysteria.

" Mud…Hermione," he said shaking her hard, to stop her nonsensical rambling.

"At the count of three, touch the shoe," he shouted to make himself heard over the rain. When he got no response from her except her half crazed laughter, he took her hand in his and then started with the count.

"ONE, TWO…"

"I don't want to go," she said faintly, but her words were not even audible to herself.

"THREE."

He brought both their hands down on the shoe at three. As she felt a jerk at her navel, she felt a curse hit her back. The world around her exploded and she felt herself fall forth into oblivion.

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End file.
